


CPR is the Ninja of Kissing

by Mistiel



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Banter, Episode Tag, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-30
Updated: 2012-06-30
Packaged: 2017-11-08 21:53:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/447945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistiel/pseuds/Mistiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles wasted no time in scrambling to Derek's side, rolling him over onto his back and immediately diving in to do CPR -- something his father made him take classes for and for the first time in his life he was thankful for it. Stiles mashed their mouths together, exhaling and then pulling back, hands going to Derek's hard, chiseled, god really hard, chest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	CPR is the Ninja of Kissing

**Author's Note:**

> Tag to 2x04 Abomination. Unbeta'd, so all mistakes are my own. Enjoy!

They've been treading water for roughly two hours, eleven minutes and twenty-two seconds. That lizard thing kept circling the pool and every time Stiles tried to tread over to one or more sides the thing would just hiss at him. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep Derek afloat, keep them both afloat.

And seriously, where the hell was Erica? She couldn't have been unconscious _that_ long, right? Maybe she tucked tail and ran to save her own skin -- which is what Stiles _should_ had done but didn't. Hah, some pack Derek had! Stiles wasn't even part of his pack was out here risking his very special life to save them both.

He'd suggest one or more times that maybe they should drop their clothes -- they weighed a ton, okay, it felt like Derek literally weighed a metric ton in his soaked jeans and boots and everyone knew that clothes were always heavier when wet, especially fabrics as thick and heavy a material as jeans. But Derek just growled out a quick and short 'no' and threatened to rip his throat out if he so much as mentioned it again.

Stiles did, just because he knew that Derek couldn't hurt him _right now_.

When he dropped Derek to go for his phone he couldn't help the well of guilt that rushed up into him, the exclamation moments before Derek sank. But Stiles was positive, completely certain that he would get back to Derek in time.

Scott was the worst friend ever, seriously. He was dumping his shaggy wolf ass the minute they got out of this alive. Tossing his phone down, which he'd later regret, he swam back and dove in to retrieve the werewolf from the murky depths of the swimming pool and hauled him up, breaking the surface with a gasp.

"Derek?"

Nothing but silence greeted him and his whole body went rigid with fear. "Derek? Derek! No, no c'mon, you can't do this! This isn't funny!" Stiles shouted, shaking the werewolf he held tight. There was still no answer. Panic rose up sharp as he quickly began to swim toward the edge of the pool, needing to get out, needing to bring Derek back, because he couldn't lose anyone else.

It never really occurred to him until then that he actually thought of Derek as a friend -- all growly, wall-throwing aside. The man had been there when they needed it, even now with his head up his own ass and his ragtag pack of misfits, Derek still tried to save him.

And Stiles let him down. Literally and figuratively.

He reached for the ladder leading up to the edge that would get them out but his hand kept slipping and he kept going under, taking Derek with him. When he reached a third time and missed, he felt a hand grasp his wrist and for a moment he thought it was that lizard thing, but as they were both pulled out and all but tossed to the side, he snapped his head up and saw a very pissed off and wolfed out Scott.

Finally, god. He was still re-evaluating their friendship status though.

Stiles wasted no time in scrambling to Derek's side, rolling him over onto his back and immediately diving in to do CPR -- something his father made him take classes for and for the first time in his life he was thankful for it. Stiles mashed their mouths together, exhaling and then pulling back, hands going to Derek's hard, chiseled, god really hard, chest.

He had no idea what was happening with the creature and Scott, but suddenly his friend was by his side, hand on his shoulder, "Uh, dude?"

"Not now, Scott!"

"No, dude, you don't --"

"No time! There's no time!"

"But he's breathing, man."

"He's not -- what?"

Stiles pulled back to look down and yep, there was Derek looking back up at him, his extremely good pokerface firmly in place even as he looked down. Stiles followed his line of sight to where his hands were still pressed against Derek's broad chest and instantly pulled them back.

"Uhh," his face blossomed with color as he sat there on his knees next to the werewolf, who was slowly now starting to sit up. He shook his head -- which reminded Stiles of a wet dog -- and looked over at Stiles again.

The teen just grinned. "Sooo, at least I'm a good kisser right?"

Derek rolled his eyes a little, though his lips twitched in a barely there smirk. "Needs some work."

"Why, you offering lessons?" Stiles asked, feeling his cheeks darken with his bold flirting. Honestly, almost drowning to death puts things in perspective for some people. Like his apparent feelings for one grouchy sour wolf Derek Hale.

"Okay, this -- this is officially the weirdest night ever. I'm just gonna go home now." Scott complained as he slowly backed up, weirded out by watching his best friend and their -- what, rival? -- _flirting_ of all things. Eugh!

Stiles just rolled his eyes at Scott's complaint. Totally re-evaluating their friendship status, yep. Because right now Derek was higher on that list than Scott.

Before Stiles could even get a word out, Derek grabbed him by his sopping red tracksuit and hauled him forward. For a brief moment he thought Derek was going to hit him or something, but instead he felt warm, damp lips against his and heard a soft, rumbling growl that sounded almost pleased.

"Oh, gross! You guys!" Scott whined pathetically from somewhere off to their side and after a moment Stiles heard retreating footsteps stomping away. Oh well, he didn't care what Scott thought about this. If he could mack on Allison in front of him then he could totally do the same with Derek, it was like a rule or something.

But Derek pulled away way too soon and Stiles chased his lips until he felt a warm hand pressing against his chest. "Better, still needs work though."

It took Stiles a moment to realize Derek was talking about the kissing and couldn't help the stupid little grin that crossed his face. "Well, we could always keep practicing," he suggested.

A low growl sounded from Derek and Stiles watched as his eyes flashed Alpha-red. "Later," Derek muttered, his voice a quiet rumble that made him shiver, the motion of which caused Derek's eyes to darken considerably.

"When you say later, do you mean like a rain-check for a later date? Or later as in a few minutes from now? An hour? A few hours? Two -- three maybe? Or do you mean like tonight while my dad is still at work on a double shift and won't be back until morning so we'll have the house to ourselves later?"

Derek blinked for a moment as if dumbfounded Stiles could say all that in one breath and not be out of it. "Yes."

Oh. Well. "Okay then, we should definitely do this later then and you totally need to give me a ride home since Scott who is totally not my best friend anymore bailed on me." Honestly, Scott, what sort of friend were you?

Derek said nothing as he got up and helped Stiles to his feet as well, hand against his lower back as the man ushered him toward the door that led outside. "So uh, thanks, you know, for trying to save me back there and I'm sorry for dropping you. That was an uncool thing to do."

"It was necessary, don't worry about it," Derek said, pushing open the door and leading Stiles outside and toward his car. Stiles shivered in the cool night air and inched a little closer to Derek who was radiating heat like a damn furnace.

"Thank you," Derek said after a moment, "For saving me." And Stiles was sure he wasn't just talking about this one time either. The teen just smiled and nodded. "Yeah, sure, any time big guy."

The walk to the car was quiet otherwise until Derek opened the passenger door for him. "Dude, seriously?"

"Get in."

"But no, wait, seriously? You're opening the door for me? You realize I'm not a girl right?"

Derek was quiet for a moment, eyes narrowed before he moved in and crowded Stiles up against the side of his car. "You held me up for two hours or more, I'm trying to be _nice_." The werewolf growled quietly, causing Stiles to swallow a little.

"Oh, um, well thank you."

"Now get in."

"Getting in!"

Stiles did, and Derek joined him a moment later, sliding into the driver's side and closing the door. He immediately buckled up and watched as Derek turned the car over and flipped up the heat to keep them warm.

"Soo, about that ki--"

"Stiles," Derek cut off, glancing over to the teen as he pulled out of the school parking lot.

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

"Aaaaaand if I don't?" Stiles pushed, enjoying their little game of banter -- well when it didn't get him threatened, anyway.

Derek seemed to consider this for a good minute before his lips twitched in amusement. "I won't fuck you after we get you home."

The teen's mouth dropped open in surprise, his cheeks heating up in embarrassment and wow, what a way to turn someone on!

"Shutting up!"


End file.
